


The Vacation

by grey_skyes



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Don't Judge Me, I'm garbage I know, It's past midnight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey_skyes/pseuds/grey_skyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What I expected to happen during/after Cecil's vacation</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vacation

It had been a long day for Cecil. Station management had fired Shawn from sales, and the janitor had taken 5 hours to clean the blood and viscera from the lobby, leaving Cecil trapped in his booth.

It had been months since Carlos had entered the alternate desert dimension, but now, finally, Cecil could go visit him.

He took a shuttle bus home, wondering when, or even _if_ the subway system would ever be reopened, there had been a pretty big drop in the amount of deer-people walking around, so it couldn’t be too long. Old woman Josie greeted Cecil upon his arrival at his stop, whispering harsh tones of “antelope” and “burning embers”, which was of course the most courteous way to wish somebody a pleasant trip. Cecil expressed his gratitude and asked “I know that Erika might have a lot going on right now, but could you please ask them to, I dunno, maybe watch over me? I’m not implying anything of course, I mean, I’m not saying they’re _angels_ or anything, but for my own sake, please?” Josie nodded in hesitant acceptance, and bid Cecil farewell.

When Cecil entered his home, he noticed a slight aroma in the air. Vanilla. He pushed the memories of the tapes away as he strode into the bathroom, washing his face with the cool water. He needed this break.

 

The following day the air was thick and stagnant, ushering with it a smell of decaying flesh from the scrublands, and the many animals fallen prey to the vultures and spiderwolves that roam them.

Cecil wasted no time. At 8 AM he walked briskly into the scrublands, where Carlos had informed him there would be a door. The door was old, and had markings on the frame, portraying a vicious scene in which many people were mercilessly torn apart by shadowy figures. There was a brass knob, no bigger than Cecil’s fist, it had a small keyhole below it, although there didn’t seem to be a latch on the frame.

Cecil steeled himself, took a long, deep breath, and opened the door.

A gush of scorching hot air burst through the frame, smothering Cecil, almost knocking him down. He stepped through, and for a moment, was blinded by the brilliant light from the sun which seemed to be at least 3 times closer now.

“Cecil!” he heard from his side.

“Carlos?” he answered. His eyes were starting to adjust to the light, and he was beginning to make out the shape of a desk in the sand about 20 feet to his left, behind it, a beautiful man with long wavy hair, a square jaw, and teeth like a military cemetery. “CARLOS!”

Carlos ran towards Cecil, arms outstretched further than should be humanly possible. They shared a moment of loving embrace before a cough came from behind them.

“Oh, sorry, this is Doug, he’s the leader of the masked army here. He’s really nice” Carlos explained.

“Uuuhh, hi!”

Doug was a short man(?), maybe 4 feet 7 in height, with a comb-over and glasses over what appeared to be an ancient tiki mask that seemed to be five feet high, with the middle where his face would be. Cecil couldn’t help but think how difficult this must make everyday activities such as eating and checking for throat-spiders.

“I’ve got so much to show you” smiled Carlos, boy did Cecil love him. It had been months, and now he was back together with him, Cecil just wanted to hold him and never let him go.

 

That night, Carlos took Cecil to see the beautiful night sky from atop the mountain. He put up a very convincing argument when Carlos suggested that the mountain actually existed, but quietly withdrew his statements upon witnessing the momentous beast himself, however he still hadn’t stopped mumbling “mountains? More like _nothings_ ” under his breath since they had arrived an hour and a half ago.

Over the following week, Carlos showed Cecil the work he had been doing while in the desert. There were bottles and beakers littering his home, many of which seemed to be defying the very laws of physics; floating, creating new colours, and Cecil was sure that in one beaker, Carlos had managed to make fire-laced water.

There were many times Cecil wanted to bring up how much he needed Carlos to return home to Nightvale, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt his gleeful babbling of scientific theories and hypotheses. Why was there never a good time to tell the person you love that they need to stop putting other things between you?

Cecil sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos said.

“No, nothing, don’t worry! Go on, you were saying about quarks?”

“Listen Cecil. I know that this desert isn’t our home. I know that this isn’t where we belong, but there are _so many_ interesting scientific phenomenon here that need to be analysed. I can’t just leave this place!”

There was a tense silence. Cecil stared into a beaker that he’d mindlessly been fiddling with, slowly lifting his gaze to meet Carlos’.

“We have to go. Right now, we have to go”

Carlos looked at Cecil with the look you might give a wounded animal you know you will have to put out of its misery. “I can’t”

 

When Cecil returned home, he threw himself onto his bed, his arms and legs lead weights that held him there for hours. His tears were soaking into his pillow, and the scent of vanilla pushed him into a cold pit of despair. He wasn’t working tomorrow.

The next day Cecil called in sick, explaining that he had a nasty case of throat-spiders, and needed a few days, if not weeks to recover.

 

“I upheld my end, Burton, now it’s your turn. Are you an honourable man?” a male voice on the phone asked.

“Oh boy, I could kiss you, buddy!” Leonard replied.

“Remember, there mustn’t be any news about Cecil, alrighty?” the voice had an eerie smile in his voice, like an air hostess.

“Listen Kevin, don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful you got me my show back and all, but this doesn’t seem very right to me. I mean, the sheriff’s secret police are most definitely listening to this phone call, who’s to say I won’t get in trouble?”

“It’s simple Leonard, you didn’t break any laws, you simply got reinstated at your old job, now all you have to do is make this town love StrexCorp, ok?”

“I… I guess so”

“Addaboy! Go on then, I don’t want to make you late for your first day back on the radio!”

“See ya Kevin”

“Goodbye Leonard”

 

Across town the static-y speakers in a foam-tile roof of the Moonlite All-Nite Diner burst to life.

A high-pitched voice, grating like sandpaper is heard.

“The sun is actually cold. It’s cold and empty and all is lost.

Greetings from Nightvale”.


End file.
